


Do ut Des

by Sselene



Series: The Socialporn Hour [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Ficlet, I'm not sure what I should tag, I'm sorry it's not porn, Implied Future Underage, M/M, implied future dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 12:06:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sselene/pseuds/Sselene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles knows, theoretically, that Beacon Hills is not safe yet, that there are dangers around, that he should keep an eye open, etc. etc. But it’s been a nice evening, a peaceful dinner with all his friends, and he feels like he should be able to just relax.<br/>He’s wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do ut Des

Stiles knows, theoretically, that Beacon Hills is not safe yet, that there are dangers around, that he should keep an eye open, etc. etc. But it’s been a nice evening, a peaceful dinner with all his friends, and he feels like he should be able to just relax.  
He’s wrong.  
He’s just going to open the car’s door, when an hand slam on the car’s roof, making him jump and startle. He turns around and gasps in finding himself just an inch away from Peter Hale’s smirking face.  
“Peter,” he says, trying to keep his voice still.  
“Stiles,” the Alpha greets, bowing lightly his head. “Had a nice night?”  
Stiles swallows, looking around, but there’s no one else there, no one who can help him. And he doesn’t even know what Peter wants. He kept away just until now, maybe it doesn’t want… it doesn’t even finish the thought, because it’s Peter Hale, whatever he wants, it’s not nice.  
“Fuck off, Peter,” he snarls, returning his attention to the car.  
Peter laughs – the bastard.  
“Is this the Stilinski’s charm you were talking about?” He asks, so near his breathing tickles Stiles’ nape. “Because I think I quite like it.”  
Stiles’ hands are trembling and it’s hard not to show it, when the werewolf’s own hand cover them.  
“Fuck off, Peter,” he says again, trying to jerk free, even though he already knows it’s useless.  
“Don’t be so harsh, sweety,” Peter almost purrs against his skin, the nickname twisted in his voice. “I’m trying to court you, here.”  
“Court me by fucking off.”  
Peter backs off. It’s so surprising that Stiles cannot even go in the car and run away, because his eyes are fixed on Peter and his smile.  
“Okay,” he says amicably. “You’re not the only one with the Stilinski’s charm, are you?”  
Stiles feels like he can’t breath at the implications. His hands shake. He drops his keys and he doesn’t even care.  
“Stay away from my father,” he says through gritted teeth.  
“And in return?” Peter asks. “What do I receive?”  
It’s clear what he want and Stiles feels sick. He want to say no, he wants to find a plan b, he want to kill the werewolf. But his mind keeps thinking about his dad and about the things Peter would do to him, things he cannot permit him to.  
“Okay,” he whispers defeated. “Okay.”  
Peter’s smile is blinding and Stiles wants to curl on himself and vomit.


End file.
